Origins and Merchant Tea
by The AvA
Summary: A short story about Drow's encounter with the infamous shopkeeper, Leragas the Vile.


Origins and Merchants Tea

She had no name, only a title that became her identity.

Drow Ranger.

Beneath the greenwood's thick foliage, darkness flooded the underbrush as eventide approached. Green and brown lost their colour, turning as grey as the hood that shrouded her face. Locks of pale blonde hair streamed down like narrow, moonlit rivers. She carried a bow decorated with silver scrollwork, next to a quiver full of black-fletch arrows. Her eyes, a piercing blue, watched the two silhouettes ahead of her conversing beneath a canopy

One was at least two times her size while the other was slender and tall. Drow approached silently, slipping from bole to bole as if a shadow. Soon she was close enough to eavesdrop and nearly gagged at the scent of death that hung heavy in the air.

"Four hundred and fifty gold coins. I do not haggle, Lich."

"You'd do well to reconsider, fat man. Dying with ice in your veins is an excruciating way to go."

The fat man chuckled. "I think you'd do well to reconsider your threat, my friend. Kill me, and who is going to tend to your weapons? Kill me, and who will provide you with those precious enchantments." He wagged a stubby finger, as if to scold a misbehaving child. "I am Master Leragas, Leader of the Merchant's Guild. Kill me, and all of you will be fighting with sticks and rocks."

Lich grated his teeth. The transaction concluded with a jiggle of gold in the fat man's hand. "I'm sure these Boots of Speed will serve you well, despite your lack of feet," said Leragas with a wink. His customer left without a farewell.

Waiting till she was certain that the fat man was alone, Drow slunk from her hiding spot, a frosted arrow notched onto her bow. Not a sound broke through the stillness in the air as she sneaked under the canopy. When Leragas finally saw her, he nearly knocked over a table of scented candles.

"Hoho! You gave me quite a fright there, sugarcake." His eyes met the frosted arrowhead trained on his chest, yet his voice remained calm and jovial. "Now, now, sugarcake. There is no need for violence. What can Leragas do for you today, hmm?"

The merchant was far more comely. His pudgy face housed two ridiculously small dots for eyes and a large nose that drooped just above his wide grin. He dressed in a white tunic that managed to fit his grotesquely fat frame. Over it he wore a floppy greet vest embroidered with a golden crisscross pattern that matched the cap on his head. Around his heavy waist a leather belt with pouches big and small held up a pair of red breeches.

"I saw you dealing with a Dire hero."

Leragas chuckled the same way he did when Lich threatened to murder him, slow and amused. "Of course. Trading brings me gold, sugarcake. Lots of shiny golden coins. Every merchant must make a sale to stay alive. I get on by providing quality weapons to anyone with willing to pay for it, be it Radiant or Dire. I cannot afford to be picky."

Drow's expression darkened. "You disgust me."

"Do I, sugarcake? How so?"

"You ply your trade amidst a war. Your gold is tainted with blood." Drow shifted her aim from chest to forehead. "Give me one good reason not to stick a feather between your eyeballs just now."

Again, the same chuckle. "Put away your bow, sugarcake. Come, let us share a pot of tea and I will answer your questions, both the asked and unasked." When she did not move, Leragas tsked. "It is very rude to deny a host's courtesy."

Drow hesitated, but finally lowered her bow. The merchant could still be of use. "I do not want your tea."

"As you wish. Do you mind if I brew a pot for myself?"

Her blue eyes narrowed.

"I assure you, sugarcake. Just a pot of boiled leaves. Nothing else."

Leragas stayed true to his words. Bedecked in the middle of the canopy, three plump cushions occupied a low round table made from varnished wood. Drow rested her bow and quiver on a nearby barrel and sat on a cushion. The down-stuffed velvet nearly swallowed her lithe figure whole. Leragas sprinkled a pinch of ground ironwood leaves into a cup of simmering water and settled himself into a cushion. The merchant sat with ease. Drow shifted awkwardly.

Leragas sipped his tea. "Hmm, refreshing." He took another loud sip and placed the cup on the table. He licked his lips, satisfied. "So where should I begin, sugarcake?"

Drow leaned forward to avoid sagging into the cushion. "Tell me for your ties with the Dire."

"As I've said before, I'm merely the merchant that supplies them."

Drow shook her head. "How could you even bring yourself to deal with such vile monsters?"

Leragas shrugged. "Gold is gold, whether it came from the hands of the Radiant or the Dire or from the sky. I must say I do prefer trading with the living. Dead customers tend to smell rather unpleasant."

"Unbelievable," muttered Drow. "Does your conscience not bother you, knowing that innocent people have died while you make a profit? Don't they haunt you in your sleep?"

"I sleep rather well, sugarcake, and why would it bother me? This war is as much your doing as anyone else." Drow failed to find her voice from the shock. The murderous stare that followed prompted a quick explanation from Leragas. "Well, my point is that the Dire aren't solely to be blamed for this conflict. All of us have blood on our hands."

His remark further vexed Drow. She thought briefly of the hidden dagger tucked underneath the folds of her. "Why do you say that?" she asked whilst contemplating on whether to stab him.

Leragas sipped his tea twice. "Answer me this, sugarcake. What does your pretty eyes see in the Dire?"

"Evil," Drow said at once, automatic. "Unworthy scum that should be eradicated."

"Do you know what I see? I see a group of shunned individuals, individuals that do not fit into any society except their own."

"They are monsters!"

"They are forced to be monsters. We made them into monster." Leragas finished the rest of his tea. "And of course, mislead by a greater entity that is not so different from your own righteous leaders."

"The Radiant is nothing like the Dire," declared Drow.

Another one of his chuckles ran its course. "On the contrary, they are quite the same."

Drow stood up, so sudden Leragas nearly rolled off his cushion. "My patience is at its end, fat man. I will not sit idly by as you besmirched the good name of the Radiant," she hissed.

"Perhaps you will have some tea after all, to calm that fire in your heart. Sit and I shall bring you a cup."

Crossing her hands in front of her, Drow made no attempt to move. "I'll stand henceforth, and safe your tea."

Her reply gave Leragas a hearty laugh. "You are as stubborn as you are beautiful, sugarcake. Very well. You shall stand and you shan't have tea, if it pleases you." From a pouch on his belt Leragas produced a hip flask, unscrewed the lid and pulled a long draught. Wine trickled down his chin, staining his white tunic with rosy smudges. "What about wine?" he offered instead.

"I don't want anything you have to offer, fat man."

Leragas shrugged and tossed the flask into a corner. "That Lich you saw earlier wasn't always bones and chains, you know. He was a living man once, a powerful ice wizard, till a witch cursed him. He refused her love, and she called him a cold-blooded toad. A flick of her wand and he was in chains, the poor sod.

"Even if what you say is true, the Dire still strive against order and peace. The Radiant maintains its and thereby protects the people."

Leragas chuckled again. "That's were you are mistaken again, sugarcake. The Radiant does indeed maintain order but not for the people. _For its people_. Not everyone fits the mold for the perfect society they are trying to create."

"So we are just to accept the Dire as who they are?" retorted Drow. "Perhaps now you are going to suggest that we just lay down our weapons and laugh our differences aside?"

"No," Leragas replied simply. "Your differences are two ends that will never meet. The war that plagues us is inevitable by nature. The war exists because both of you exist."

"Just so." Drow slung her bow and quiver across her back. "I've wasted enough time here."

Leragas smiled a toothy grin. "You are most welcome to come again, perhaps to browse my wares next time. I'm sure we can find something that would be of interest to you."

Drow lowered her hood, shadows falling across her face. "And what would I possibly need from you?"

There it was again, that annoying chuckle. "That is for you to decide, sugarcake."


End file.
